Something happened during last night's 30-minute out and back run that seemed a perfect follow-up to Monday's post. It was after work, night had descended, and I was dressed to be seen--or so I thought.
My new reflective vest is way brighter than my old family heirloom. With 360-degree reflection and modern-age Scotch-Brite material, I looked like a damned Christmas tree that should have been taken down two weeks ago.
My route was another failed attempt at finding a road long enough (but not a busy thoroughfare) to suite my 30-minute runs. Alas, my chosen road ended with less than five minutes to go before I turned back. There was a park to my left, a busy road ahead, and short neighborhood road to my right.
I turned right and ran a couple more blocks until my watch timer went off. All the while I'd been conducting light-pole intervals (one on, four off), as my goal is to ratchet up my speed and endurance in these shorter running bursts.
Upon returning to my original road, there was a teen-aged boy riding his bike past the park as he texted. I hit the intersection just after he did and was running just behind him on the opposite side of the road.
All of a sudden, he looked up from his phone. "Oh, man, you scared the fudge out of me," he said with a startled urgency. Only, he didn't say "fudge."
I apologized, as he returned to his texting and pedaled on ahead of me. Running under the street lamps and wearing bright clothing, I never thought the kid didn't see me.
It just goes to show that sometimes people get scared of things that are stupid to be scared of.